


A Businessman, A King, and A Journalist

by littlechinesedoll



Series: Cum Dumpster Bruce Wayne [22]
Category: Aquaman - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: sukiekagamine asked: A drabble with Clark/Bruce/Arthur 3some and the two get jealous of each other so much Bruce has to say "You two are sharing me, not fighting over me" and finally the two has only one thing in common: to please Bruce with everything they have.





	

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd. 
> 
> tumblr link http://cumdumpsterbrucie.tumblr.com/post/153777114061/

Clark frowned when Arthur decided to give Bruce a gorgeous Atlantean robe for a present. All the kids received trinkets from Atlantis, too.

Arthur frowned when Clark brought home some apple pie from his Ma for Bruce since he liked them. It was a pretty damn good apple pie.

They both frown at each other when they see each other trying to pamper and spoil Bruce, but Bruce has never showed them any favoritism. Arthur and Clark like each other, of course, but trying to get Bruce’s attention is a competition to them.

And mostly, Clark just feels bad because technically, Arthur can give a whole lot more to Bruce than he can. He doesn’t make much, and in this relationship, he’s basically grounded looking after Bruce’s kids on the weekends if they’re not tied to a global catastrophe.

And Arthur is the king of well, the entire 70% of the earth and what’s Clark have compared to that? He’s out there being king most of the time anyway.

Clark sighs and pours his favorite brewed coffee into his thermos, and twists it shut. Arthur’s seated on a stool on counter, eating toast, sausages, eggs, and bacon, and a bowl of cereal.

Alfred’s upstairs checking on the children, who are allowed to sleep in because it’s a Saturday.

The kitchen is quiet, save for the clinking of cutlery against Arthur’s plate.

“Do you have to go back to Atlantis today?” Clark asks, giving him a mug of coffee. He turns back to the sink and washes the utensils he used to make breakfast. “Bruce has an emergency at one of the subsidiaries and is leaving in a few, and I’m turning up for work for a few hours for lunching meeting, so it’d be nice if the kids woke up with you here. I’ll be back before two or three in the afternoon, though, but I can’t say when Bruce will be back,”

Arthur doesn’t answer immediately.

“But it’s alright if you can’t. Come back for dinner. Dick wanted some burgers from Bibbo’s, and Bruce some Devil’s cake, so I’m bringing some later. Do you want me to pick up something for you?” Clark deposits the plates on the drying rack. “So that Alfred doesn’t have to make dinner,”

He turns around when he hears cutlery bang against the porcelain plate. Arthur’s glaring at him. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

Clark’s brows knit together in confusion. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” Arthur hisses. “I can’t stand it when you’re acting like this perfect husband, helping Alfred around, fucking making breakfast–”

“What am I supposed to do then? Laze around? I owe a lot to Bruce. I owe him my life, my job, my apartment, even Kon’s education which should be my responsibility but he shouldered it because I’m not financially stable enough send him to school. So sue me for at least trying to keep the house running when he’s at work,” Clark frowns. “Bruce is literally the reason I’m not homeless, and it pisses you off that I help take care of his house and kids?”

“Yes, it pisses me off!” Arthur yells. “It pisses me off that you can do more than I can! It pisses me off that I can’t stay here as much as I want to. It pisses me off that you’re in his bed every night–”

“You’re the king of the entire ocean, of course Bruce understands you’re in a tight situation–”

“I DIDN’T ASK TO BE KING!” Arthur booms, slamming his fist on the counter, making the expensive marble crack.

“Well being king sounds to me pays pretty damn well compared to being a reporter,” Clark shoots back.

Arthur stands up and gets in Clark’s face, ready to tackle him should he say something offensive or belittling. “If you think that being king is all it’s cracked up to be–”

“HEY!” Bruce, with an undone tie around his neck, yells from the kitchen’s threshold, then continues in a more reasonable volume. “What the hell is going on here? It’s seven the morning, and I can hear you yelling from the bedroom upstairs. You’ll wake the children,” he raises a brow, expecting them to explain themselves. “Well?”

“Sorry,” both men chorus, looking genuinely sorry about unnecessary rise of voices.

“Look,” Bruce approaches them both and pulls them close to him. “You two are sharing me. We’re sharing each other with each other. You’re not supposed to fight over me, either,”

Clark and Arthur nod solemnly.

“And Clark, being a journalist is a noble profession, don’t think otherwise. I don’t care how much you make,” says Bruce. Clark again nods at his words. “And Arthur, we all have our shortcomings. Clark has them with Conner, that’s why I help. When someone has shortcomings, we help, not rub it in their face,” he lets them go. “Now, I hope this conversation clears things up,” he resumes knotting his tie. “I’ll have Alfred call someone to repair that counter. I’ll be back before lunch,” he says, and moves to leave, but turns back to them. “Let’s have a good night tonight,” he winks at them, then leaves.

Clark swallows.

“I honestly have no idea how he can get you hard with just a wink,” says Arthur. “I mean yeah it turns me on, but seriously?”

“That just means your cock hasn’t been in his mouth enough,” Clark smirks at him.

“Ugh,”


End file.
